Ninety Miles an Hour
by Zapwing
Summary: Set during episode 9; 'Convoy'. What exactly happened between Jack and Miko on that train? Oneshot.


**This is my first Transformers Prime fic, so if my writing or anything else merits attention, please let me know. **

**(Pretty?)Please do not flame me. I only want constructive criticism. Do you hear me?**

**It's called CON-STRUC-TIVE. Yes, it's a big word isn't it?**

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><p><strong>Ninety Miles an Hour<strong>

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Miko Nakadai was frightened. No, more than that. She was terrified. Her grip on Jack's arm grew slightly tighter as Silas' missile shrieked ahead of the train, and slammed into the tracks. It detonated in a cloud of rock, metal and shrapnel, sending a column of smoke into the air. Silas' helicopter withdrew, its rotors spinning furiously, the air of one satisfied with a job well done. Miko decided she hated it. Jack yelped as he processed the sudden scene. He immediately withdrew into the train's cargo compartment, Miko separating her from his arm, and he drew out his cell phone.

She'd just come to the realization that she might die here, a casualty of war. She wondered what would happen, if-

No, she couldn't think like that! Not while she could still think of a plan! Not while she could still save Jack! Oh Kami, what was she going to do?

"Ratchet! MECH blew the train tracks!" exclaimed Jack, "You've got to bridge us out of here! The soldiers too!"

Miko leaned in closer to hear Ratchet's response, coming somewhat closer to Jack than she intended.

"We've lost access to the train data!" said Ratchet's panicked voice; Raf's pained swearing in the background, "I can't bridge you back without your coordinates!"

Miko's heart sank, as she and Jack processed this information. She shared a worried glance with him, and something like a spark seemed to flicker between them. Then they withdrew, abruptly, and surveyed the scene outside their compartment. The train was still progressing at a constant rate, and the wind blew their hair, and stung their cheeks. It might have been exhilarating in different circumstances, if they weren't facing impending doom.

Miko bit her lip and came up with the first thing that popped into her head. "Maybe we should jump?"

Jack looked at her, incredulous. "At ninety miles an hour?"

"It's the impact or the meltdown. Take your pick."

Jack gave a pointed glance at the DNGS, the device that had been more trouble than worth. He sighed in exasperation. "What were we thinking, volunteering for this?"

Miko felt a stab of indignation, at the fact that his usually confident face was scarred by such uncertainty and indecision. "Next time, you should do a better job of talking us out of these situations?"

Jack's face fell. "Next time…" he sighed.

Miko glanced out again, looking in the opposite direction, her mind racing. "We could buy ourselves another few seconds if we were in the back of the train. Right?"

They caught each other's eyes again. Miko's honey colored ones met Jack's dark cobalt blues, and that spark flew again. For a second it was almost as if-

"Miko," said Jack, coming forward, "at least…we're in this together." He was closer to her now. Miko looked up at him, her hand sliding off the edge of the door. She drew closer and closer, her heart thudding in her chest, beating so fast, as she fought the impulse to throw her arms around his neck, and-

She grabbed Jack's phone, not really realizing what she was doing, not registering Jack's bewildered expression. "Ratchet, this is important!" she said, "Make sure Bulkhead gets my guitar."

She shut off the phone, shoving it roughly into Jack's hands. The boy fumbled with it for a second, and his eyes locked with Miko's. She felt her heart rate rise again. It wasn't adrenaline; that excuse was getting old. It was something else, something Miko couldn't properly articulate in words. She never thought she would feel this way, especially on a transport train moving at an impossible speed that the human body was not meant to deal with. Her hands shook, as she took a shaky breath.

And then she caught Jack's face in her hands and kissed him. Her lips worked fervently against Jack's, as her arms curled around his back. To her surprise, he was kissing back, hands on either side of her hips. A warmth emanated from their bodies, so close they were, and they withdrew and lip-locked again. Their lips were furious on the second round, trying to draw as much passion as they could, as Jack leaned against the train's metal wall, Miko's chest pressed against his; in all likelihood, they weren't going to have another chance like this.

They pulled away, and their eyes were locked once more, their lips only mere centimeters apart. Jack and Miko's breaths intermingled, caressing each other's faces. His hair had become slightly disheveled where she'd run her fingers through it. Hell, even a few locks of Miko's own hair seemed out of place. Embarrassed, Miko closed her eyes, her face digging into the crook of Jack's neck.

"Jack, I…"

There was a sudden commotion that resembled the rumble of a truck engine, and the two separated at the sudden noise. Jack and Miko jutted their heads out, and found Optimus, in truck form darting past their compartment. For a nanosecond, they saw their reflections in the Autobot's chrome finish. Two teenagers, a boy and a girl, staring in awe and disbelief at their savior, hands together, fingers interlocked.

And then it passed. Optimus rocketed ahead, in maximum overdrive. The two watched him pass compartment after compartment at a speed a normal truck could only dream of achieving.

Jack smiled, as he looked to Miko. "Don't read the will just yet."

Miko couldn't help it. There were tears of joy; tiny, and unnoticeable, but tears nonetheless. She smiled back at Jack, and her hold on his hand grew tighter.

_I don't intend to_, she thought, _not by a long shot._

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><p><strong>Author's Note: I know they weren't holding hands during the episode, when Jack turns up with the line about Miko's will. But i always imagined them doing that, when I played out the scene and this fanfic in my head. <strong>

**Call it artistic licence. ;)**


End file.
